In the near fifty-year interim, since Graham Parker announced himself to the world with the magnificent one-two punch of 1976’s Howlin’ Wind and Heat Treatment, he’s never made a bad
Tom Freund Shares Bright and Stirring Rendition of Graham Parker’s “Disney’s America” off his Now Freund is set to release his cover of the 1995 song “Disney’s America” by one of his heroes, legendary U.K. pub-rocker Graham Parker. The song is part of Freund’s forthcoming album, The Year I Spent in Space, which will be out early next year.
During their original alliance, Graham Parker and The Rumour never released a live album that accurately represented how powerful they sounded in concert (the execrable The Parkerilla is only worth mentioning as an aside. These double-disc packages, however, stand as essential documents of the early stages of the partnership between this supremely smart songwriter and a crack band.
Catch Charles Bradley at a venue near you during his two-month North American Tour.
Since splitting with his vaunted backing band The Rumour in 1980, Graham Parker’s been able to maintain his edge working as a solo artist and with various accompanying ensembles. He’s able to wield that edge here in the thirty-year reunion with his former comrades, most effectively as Three Chords Good comes to an emphatic conclusion.
Graham Parker is as comfortable in his skin and niche as an artist could be, a good nature curmudgeon if there ever was one (if there is in fact such a thing). He's too prickly for a mainstream audience to embrace him, but that doesn't deny this transplanted Brit's prowess for writing great pop songs, only that his persona doesn't lend itself either to the warm and fuzzies, contrived melodrama or the slavish idolatry that fuels the cult of personality.
Perhaps only a fan who truly appreciates Graham Parker as much for his non-conformist attitude as his aptitude with a pop tune might find the unconventional approach of his April 24th Vermont show satisfying. In a sojourn through his independent discography of the 80's and 90's, the transplanted Brit spent most of his 90 minutes on stage picking and choosing tunes like "Bean Counter," from Acid Bubblegum, and offering a handful of culls from his newly released Imaginary Television (the source of the sole stage production in the form of a small TV on a barstool center stage).
It's not necessary to be aware of the thought process behind Graham Parker's Imaginary Television to appreciate the rare combination of immediacy and understatement that permeates its material and musicianship. But knowing the story behind the album's concept elevates the author's acerbic commentary on the television medium (and the culture at large it reflects) while also reaffirming the record album as a potent means of making a statement.
